


Run the Night, Light Up the Sky

by waitingforjudas



Series: Judas' Kinktober 2019 [18]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: BDSM, Blood, Body Worship, Dom Stiles Stilinski, Established Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski, Glory Hole, Kinktober, Kinktober 2019, M/M, Muscles, No orgasms, Sub Derek Hale, the plot finished earlier than they did
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-20
Updated: 2019-10-20
Packaged: 2020-12-26 23:10:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,221
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21108716
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/waitingforjudas/pseuds/waitingforjudas
Summary: Stiles wants to show Derek just how beautiful he is when he submits, but he’s not sure how he could do it. When Derek suggests a scene they could do, though, Stiles realizes his opportunity’s finally here.Written for Kinktober 2019 prompts: Glory Hole, Sthenolagnia (Muscle Worship), and Blood.





	Run the Night, Light Up the Sky

**Author's Note:**

> Quick note about the work in the end notes, as it contains spoilers. 
> 
> _Written for Kinktober 2019. Prompt list can be found at https://twitter.com/NihilistShiro/status/1162794889970511872._

Derek’s a gorgeous, gorgeous man. Stiles _loves_ his muscles—loves that he keeps himself healthy and in shape, and, well, he _knows_that Derek’s a werewolf and is practically indestructible (aside from wolfsbane and other ‘wolves), but it’s still nice to glance at Derek and remember that his boyfriend’s visibly healthy. He doesn’t have to worry so much. 

And then there’s just his _sex appeal_. 

Derek had told him to stop calling it “raw animal magnetism,” at least around pack—and especially around Stiles’ dad, which, yeah, okay, Stiles understood where he was coming from—but it was honestly a great descriptor for it. 

Anyway, though. Derek’s _hot_ as _hell_. And there’s really something about putting a wildly muscular Alpha werewolf on his knees, and there’s a whole _other_ thing about said wildly muscular Alpha werewolf on his knees _getting_ on his knees because he _wants_ to submit. To _Stiles_. 

The only unfortunate thing is that Derek doesn’t always see it. They’d talked about it, a couple weeks ago, when Derek tried wolfsbane alcohol (and hasn’t yet tried it again, because he’d had a _raging_ hangover the next day where even Stiles’ heartbeat was hard to listen to). Derek had been crying, and Stiles had asked why the hell he was crying—“Are you a weepy drunk, Der? Oh, my God, this is _incredible_— Wait, no, you look really upset, actually…”—and Derek had sobbed that he wanted to _look_ submissive, but he wasn’t ever going to look submissive, and it was a losing battle, and then he’d turned into a sobbing, snotty heap and Stiles had just focused on getting him home. 

Now, though… Stiles wanted to show Derek just how much he loved how built Derek was. 

But there was really no way that he could think of where it would seem genuine and coincidental. Stiles wanted to go all out—Derek deserved that much—but he couldn’t pass it off as just a happy accident that Derek had sobbed about not looking submissive enough and then, two weeks later, Stiles ranting about how he loved Derek’s muscles during a… blowjob? Handjob? Rimjob? Some other job he hadn’t yet considered? 

Whatever. Stiles just—he had zero idea how to show Derek how awesome sex with him was. 

And there was no way in _hell_ that Derek would do another feelings conversation. Their last one—the one two weeks ago excluded—had been almost a full year ago, and while _maybe_ Derek would tolerate a feelings-exclusive conversation, he had an even lower tolerance for conversations about why he was a great person. 

So talking about it was pretty much out. Unless Derek brought something up. 

Yeah, right. 

###

“Can we talk about something?” Derek asked. 

Stiles flailed, spilling hot coffee onto the breakfast table. “Shit! Yeah, yeah, go ahead. I’m gonna grab a towel.”

“It’s, um,” Derek said, so softly Stiles had to pause to hear him, “not something I’d like to yell.”

“Oh. Uh, okay, sure. What’s up, Sourwolf?” Stiles sat back down. The table could wait—it wasn’t like it was in mint (or even good)—condition longer than the first ten minutes they’d had it. 

Derek fidgeted, which was deeply unlike him. 

“Is everything okay?”

He nodded. “It’s— Everything’s fine. Forget it.”

“No, it’s— Something’s obviously weighing on you, Derek. Are you sure you don’t want to just say it?” Stiles frowned a little and tried to smooth it back out. He didn’t want Derek to misinterpret concern as irritation. 

Derek looked down at his omelet intensely, like he was trying to will it to explode. 

“Well, I mean, if you don’t want to, I’m gonna get a towel and mop this up before it—”

“I want to scene again.”

Stiles froze halfway out of his seat, eyes going wide. “I’m not saying no,” he said carefully, “but what did you have in mind? Specifically?”

“A glory hole,” Derek glanced up at him, “and maybe, um. You could cut me up?”

Stiles nodded, sitting back down. “Okay. Let’s negotiate this.”

“Actually,” Derek said, “could we clean up the table first?”

“The table!” Stiles shouted, jumping up and knocking his poached egg off his plate. 

“This is why people buy plates with higher sides,” Derek said, and Stiles rolled his eyes at the little smirk tugging at his mouth. 

“Yeah, yeah, laugh it up,” Stiles muttered, heading to the kitchen. 

###

Stiles knelt down, shifting until he was comfortable enough that he could stay there for twenty minutes, and then took out the pocketknife. Fully cleaned, freshly sterilized, and Derek had inspected it twice to be sure it would sting but not scar. 

Derek still had some issues with trusting weaponry around him unless he’d checked it over for wolfsbane. Stiles wasn’t at all offended, honestly. He probably should’ve been, but honestly? Considering what Derek had been through with wolfsbane, he just wasn’t. 

Besides, Derek trusted Stiles enough not to cut off his dick the moment he stuck it through the glory hole, anyway. 

The stall door on the other side of the glory hole wall swung open, and Stiles listened to it latch. 

“Stiles?” Derek asked softly. 

Stiles tapped the wall. “That’s me. Stick her through.”

Derek didn’t. 

“What?”

“Can we not refer to my penis as a ‘her’?”

“Ah,” Stiles said. “Yeah, I got that. Stick _him_ through. Better, right?”

Derek snorted. 

“Now, Der,” Stiles commanded. 

Derek’s cock slid through the—sanitized carefully—hole. 

“Balls, too.”

Derek slowly fed his balls through the gap, squeezing them through in a way that looked kind of freaky, and like it really couldn’t feel nice at all, but he didn’t soften in the slightest. 

“God, such a good sub for me,” Stiles murmured to himself. 

Derek whined almost inaudibly in the stall and Stiles smiled, flicking out the blade on the pocketknife. 

He took Derek’s cock into his mouth and rubbed Derek’s balls with one hand, both trying to soothe Derek so the first cut would startle him and trying to stimulate more blood flow to the area so it’d bleed a little more, sting a little more. 

Derek moaned, and the moment the sound started, Stiles flicked the knife’s blade across the soft skin of his sack. 

Derek’s moan cut off into a sharp grunt, and Stiles lapped up the blood as Derek’s skin healed. “All those muscles,” Stiles murmured, “but you still submit so pretty for me, don’t you?” Stiles nicked Derek’s balls again and squeezed out more blood before the wound closed up like it had never been there. 

“Not—not—”

Stiles pulled away. “Not what?”

“Not submissive enough.”

Stiles laughed. “Sorry. Sorry, shit, not laughing at you. I swear. Okay? It’s just—you’re this big, tough, Alpha werewolf, and you’re about as buff as you can really get without steroids, and you’re _strong_, but you let me put you on your knees. Or—” 

Derek snorted. 

“Present position excluded,” he said. “But I mean, seriously. Do you _feel_ in charge right now?”

“Not really,” Derek muttered. 

“Exactly! Now I’m gonna cut up your cock and balls and make you come and then we’re going home and I’m gonna fuck you into the mattress. Thoughts?”

Derek whined. “_Please_.” 

Stiles would bet money that that was Derek’s _only_ thought at the moment. 

“Gladly,” Stiles said, and sucked Derek back down.

**Author's Note:**

> Note: This was more of Sex To Resolve A Plot than Sex To Resolve An Orgasm. So there's no orgasms, nobody comes, and it cuts off partway through the sex, as the plot finishes at that point. Adding more would just be shoehorning in sex, which, yes, legitimate, but not something I typically do. 
> 
> If you enjoyed, please consider leaving kudos or a comment. 
> 
> _This work was inspired by @NihilistShiro's Kinktober prompt list, available here: https://twitter.com/NihilistShiro/status/1162794889970511872 _


End file.
